Inside lives (Prose)

within confines of the glass his world swirls
luminous bar, reflects gelled hair,  bowed 
heavy on the wood, clenched fists, wedding ring
he’s not old, not a kid
first impression, judgements passed
others make the call
problem with booze, fight with the wife
lost the high dollar job
quietly slurs  ~ “another”
bartender nods, been a regular, last few weeks
as stares held within the glass
headlights caught in blocks of ice
no-ones know his life, not you not I
moment stands still
his son’s giggling echoes  ~ taunts in his ears
car tyres splash
~ the thump
the silence
a winter’s night, car uncontrolled
his life now void of young laughter
©jmtacken 28 Feb 2014
With a nudge from Brian I share this with dversepoets   Brian has us developing characters in our poetry today.  Come join the fun – write, read others and comment – as that’s what we do! 🙂

66 thoughts on “Inside lives (Prose)

  1. i cant imagine losing a child and how much that would wreck me
    it is one of my greatest fears…and i may end up right there
    trying to drown the echoes of that moment…especially to hear it
    happen…that would haunt me…

  2. Oh, I feel badly for him or her…in building the scene I like his ‘head bowed heavy on the wood’,
    ‘headlights caught in blocks of ice’…a parent’s worst nightmare for sure.

  3. When I lived down-town many years ago.. the bars and restaurants where filled with men like this.. they all had lost something, finding a new meaning in gambling or drinking… I had a feeling that when they started out they felt free from diapers and schedules, but after a while they detoriated into bitterness… your character seem to be on the early part of the slippery slope downwards… very well portrayed..

    • Hello Paula and thank you for popping over and reading. Appreciate your words, yes life at times judged to easily and quickly, not knowing the circumstances of why someone is doing something..

  4. Excellent job of pulling us into a scene, seeing the exterior and then telescoping into a personal history that explains it – a good point about everyone having a story and sometimes hardly knowing or understanding how they tumble from one event to the next.

    • Thank you so much Gay and sometimes scenes are built without even realising it. So many stories that we don’t know about indeed. So many assumptions made too, thank you for reading and kind words.

    • Hello Kathryn, thank you for reading. To affect a reader in anyway is I guess the writers objective, sadly at times, words, characters and situations can become too realistic. Appreciate you commenting.

  5. Your descriptive prowess navigates us into the bottom of a bourbon glass, and sure, at first we are judgmental; & then Wham, you give us the bathos, and we smile sadly; yet, yet, the slippery slope Bjorn described is just that; this man is having a breakdown, and he is retreating. Tragedy occurs, and whether we like it or not, it is part of our journey; taking red herring stops off the throughline do not progress the life.

    • Hello Glenn appreciate you popping over and reading. How many of us do resort to ‘crutches’, when we start to pull away from the world and Into ourselves, something that at times is the only way out. Thank you so much for your comment Glenn .

  6. There are two things… making judgments without knowing a person’s story, how we do not know and yet we judge, we wonder and devise our own images of who a person is… and then his sad tale of losing his child. Powerful and though-provoking.

    • Thank you so very much my friend, I think I’m slowly getting there, learning how to write I mean, being more compact and not waffling on and on. I am loving the process of all of it. Hugs.

  7. I specially like this part:

    reflects gelled hair, bowed
    heavy on the wood, clenched fists, wedding ring

    You have portrayed him very well ~ Sadly I see too many like him ~

    Have a good weekend ~

  8. I look at people sometimes – a habit, trying to create their story in my head. I have friends who envy what they see on the outside; a life, a marriage, a house. Yet no one knows what goes on within the walls of that house except those living there. Hence judging a book by its cover is impossible – the truth is always the exact opposite.

    To read your fictional verse and have it explode at the end, to have it hurt and bring shivers, makes you a true poet my lovely.
    You are fabulous!

    • I think we all love to people watch and try and guess their lives, it is who we are, possibly more females than males like to do this. You as you are, always so generous and kind with your praise and loving words…I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Love you xxx

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